True Runes: Freyjadour of the Rebellion
by val'tanelle
Summary: S5 S1 AU - 444-450, the Godwins have ruled the Falena Queendom & the prince and his sister were discarded to Scarlet Moon Empire. Almost seven years of a mundane life, Freyjadour opened his eyes again once power was his. How closer is he to happiness?
1. The innocent is without power

**True Runes: Freyjadour of the Rebellion  
By Himig**

**Summary:  
**S5 S1 AU - 444-450, the Godwins have ruled the Falena Queendom & the prince and his sister were discarded to Scarlet Moon Empire. Almost seven years of a mundane life, Freyjadour opened his eyes again once power was his. How closer is he to happiness?

**Disclaimer:**  
I do not own Suikoden. Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion was the inspiration of this fic, but not based from it, at all.

**Author's Notes:**  
This happened when I was watching an amazing parody of Suikoden V with Code Geass ending. While it says S5 and S1, it will involve S4 characters and S2 references. This is an AU fic though events were still based from the real game.

And most importantly, respect my writing style for this fanfic. I focus on a single character, most of the time, Frey in one chapter. If you've read 'It's Not Sympathy', you will find the same writing style.

Oh, and I never played Suikoden V...

**Warning:**  
Possible spoilers, character death, and anything else that fits in the rating.

* * *

**True Runes: Freyjadour of the Rebellion  
_Chapter 1: The innocent is without power_**

* * *

Days seemed to be forever. It comes and it comes, and the only time one would know it would go was when the night had fallen. For mundane lives, perhaps this is true. How else it couldn't be true was impossible to say for those who are innocent.

Now eighteen in the coming year, Freyjadour was a real man physically and mentally. Gone were the days his voice would crack (his sister laughing out loud), gone were the days some women were taller than him, and gone were the days he could be cute and adorable. Freyjadour was now a very handsome man, particularly popular in Gregminister. Freyjadour didn't like the extravagant attention he was receiving. Women simply loved starring at him and giggling behind his back. He didn't know if he should be annoyed or be embarrassed. Didn't they know he can actually _hear_ them? Oh, don't let him even get start about gossips!

"Normally, men of your age would be happy," commented Lazlo, his guardian. "Don't tell me you're still feeling awkward with women."

"_He got me there_," thought Freyjadour but wouldn't dare saying it to admit it.

"You're fortunate you're a close mirror-image of your mother," continued Lazlo. "Your mother's very beautiful and she really stands out a lot—even if you try putting an ugly hat, it's not going to work."

Freyjadour was desperate once that he wore a FurFur hat. Lazlo found it hiding under the sofa and mocked Freyjadour about it all day.

Lazlo was correct though. It wasn't scientifically proven, but it was Freyjadour proven. No matter how he tries to go incognito, he was easily recognized.

"Maybe if you shave your hair, ugly hats might work."

"I'm not going to even _cut_ my hair," replied Freyjadour, annoyed.

The hair was the main problem though. It was _silver_, a very rare hair colour. Anyone can easily tell his hair was natural. Freyjadour's stunning, deep blue eyes compliment his silver hair and his pale, flawless skin (so many narcissists simply enjoy dragging him for a cup of tea) add beauty in the two. Indeed, he was almost a splitting image of his deceased mother.

Freyjadour's sister almost looked nothing like him. It could be the fact they were only half-siblings but still, they had the same mother. Lymsleia looked like her father instead of their mother. Since both her parents are beautiful in their own ways, Lymsleia still turned out to be a cute girl. Freyjadour was more irked about this matter recently, having spotted a boy of the same age as his sister, Tir McDohl starring at her.

"They're eleven," said Lazlo as a matter-of-factly at Freyjadour. "The boy's a kid and curious. You shouldn't worry; Lymsleia isn't interested. The boy can't harm her either."

Freyjadour would have believed what Lazlo assured, not when Lymsleia made a very disturbing comment.

"Big brother," she said to him. "There's this boy who's been talking to me. Can I play with him?"

Miakis, Lymsleia's nanny, giggled at Freyjadour's reaction but poked fun at Lymsleia. "Lym has a boyfriend!"

"No!" she said, flaring up. "I don't like him!"

"Then why do you want to play with him?" said Miakis playfully.

"It-it's nothing like that!" she stuttered angrily. "Why do you care?"

"I'm not going to stop you from your first love," answered Miakis, smiling impishly. "But someone else might."

"Oh no, big brother, it's nothing like that!" said Lymsleia worriedly. "I'm not going to love anyone else but you, big brother!"

"Lym, I didn't know it was that—"

"SHUT UP MIAKIS!"

With Freyjadour's matters crashing, he was becoming restless more and more. While Miakis was always beside Lymsleia, she _sometimes_ let the two eleven-year-olds be when inside either the boy's house or theirs. The boy did have a guardian too and fortunately, he was in Freyjadour's same side, though not as paranoid or overprotective as him. The man's name was Gremio. He looked dangerous at first, which really alerted Freyjadour, seeing such man, holding an axe and a suspicious scar on his left cheek, as the guardian of a son in a noble family. Miakis looked far from dangerous and Freyjadour trusted her completely. Even so, Freyjadour had to be close with Lymsleia whenever the boy and his guardian were around.

Freyjadour was simply an overprotective brother that perhaps, people would be surprised he had given trust to Gremio as much as he had given Miakis.

"Gremio, why didn't you summon Tir to me yesterday? If he was sick or unwell, you know you should have notified me."

Gremio bowed apologetically. "I'm sorry, Kai. I have forgotten to remind the young master."

Freyjadour was by the balcony at that time. Their houses were adjacent and Freyjadour caught sight of an unfamiliar man by the doorstep of the McDohl manor, talking to Gremio.

"It should be his responsibility. You shouldn't baby him too much, Gremio."

Even so, Freyjadour knew Gremio had not forgotten and he understood everything instantly. Lymsleia and Tir were playing all day, enjoying snacks made by Gremio (how Lymsleia wished Miakis could also cook) after a tiring activity. Having seen Lymsleia smile and eat so messily and energetically, he couldn't stop and scold her. Lymsleia herself was really keen on manners. She actually hated sweating or mess, but for once, she was really like a child. If this was how he felt for her, then he understood why Gremio 'forgot' to remind Tir of his lessons.

Freyjadour didn't expect Gremio though to be knocking violently one late afternoon on their doorstep. Freyjadour hadn't been worried though—he didn't know what was happening while he was simply practicing his tri-section nunchaku. When Lymsleia came home with a fever, dirty with soil and hair looking like it grew weeds, Freyjadour was extremely worried but remarkably remained calm. It was only when she was feeling better that he became angry—towards Lazlo, Miakis and the boy. He can never be angry at Lymsleia.

"It's nothing serious," answered Lazlo calmly as he brandished a pair of tonfa.

"They snuck behind the guard, climb through the gates, and entered the forest!"

"And they're safe," replied Lazlo patiently. "It's normal for children to be curious and naughty at times. You're getting illogical and too emotional, Frey."

Freyjadour held his tongue, slapped on the face by Lazlo. He had known Lazlo since he was around Lymsleia's age or younger. Their earlier years together were distant and they barely see each other. It wasn't until six or seven years ago when Lazlo became a father figure to him.

"But Lym—"

Lazlo continued brandishing the tonfa, not saying anything so Freyjadour continued, looking more solemn.

"But Lym isn't..."

"Normal?"

There goes Lazlo again with his harsh words sometimes. Freyjadour had always handled his guardian maturely though even if he was at a more tender age. The young man was not the type who turns his back and walks out in unspeakable, utter frustration. Even if Freyjadour was not always guilty of humility, he readily takes on anything, which became a very strong point in him.

He was the prince of the Queendom of Falena after all.

Freyjadour closed his eyes. He wanted to sigh, but he didn't. He wanted to stand on one leg or even lean on the wall, but he didn't. He's not going to give into weakness.

"In a way," he answered. "...in many ways."

"You probably know this already, but you can't protect her forever."

"I would have to."

Lazlo put down the tonfa and stood up to eye at the prince carefully. "Frey, you will be there when Lym needs you to protect her. If you're going to be loyal to your oath to protect her forever, a time in the future you couldn't will frustrate you and remove reasoning in your head."

Freyjadour was sat quietly on his bed, his room dark and empty of light. Yes, Lazlo once again had a point, but it was easier said than done. How could he, the big brother of the blind and forever injured princess, Lymsleia, let her go even once in the land of an enemy country while their homeland was not even a place they can return to? How can he lose her even once when she was all the he has?

How can Lymsleia live normally in their small, flat world?

"_Queen Arshtat!" he cried. "MOTHER!"_

_Two joint swords were pierced from her back, their points cleanly visible on her chest. Behind her was her daughter who tried to save her, but the sword went through her stomach, dangerously near her heart. Behind the two was the man in black and gold robes, robes that signify the knights to protect the Queen and her family. He killed the queen, he killed his mother._

_Where was he? Where was his stepfather, his sister's father who mother loved?_

_Where was his father? Where was his mother's first husband who he never remembered?_

_Where were they, fathers who had always made his mother laugh and smile..._

_Fathers who left and made his mother cry..._

_...who left Freyjadour._

The room was now bright. The curtains were pulled from the glass windows, letting the young light enter. Still, no matter how bright the room is, the prince's mind was still dark and cloudy, lying wide-awake on the bed.

So what does a discarded, extremely handsome and talented prince do everyday?

1. Study

2. Train

3. Play with Lymsleia

4. Watch Lymsleia

5. Keep track what the McDohl kid is doing

Freyjadour didn't look like the type who studies, but he does. Wearing a pink polo shirt, black vest and pants, the only thing he needed was a pair of rectangular glasses. Regarding the pink though...

"Why are you wearing pink?" said Lazlo ridiculously.

"Red stands out too much," answered Freyjadour simply.

Lazlo appeared calmer then. "Even if that sounded stupid, I'd let it pass."

"Was it supposed to be Lazlo-approved?"

"As your guardian, I have to be aware of your agendas and your interests."

Freyjadour's fingers almost slipped out of the book _Blood Flames of the Kalekka Incident_ along with its information.

"_My interests?_" Freyjadour repeated.

"You don't seem to be so interested in women..." Lazlo was hiding a coy smirk. "The change of look has something to do with it."

"No, it doesn't," answered Freyjadour flatly. "It might never come up though. How about you? You told me you were 'older than you look.'"

"I am," he answered casually. "But if that was a statement implying about my social life to confirm my gender, then I assure you that I am straight."

Freyjadour had never doubted Lazlo was homosexual but he never seemed to be interested in women either. He thought Lazlo had a wife who was either dead or separated. With how young Lazlo looked, he could be mistaken. Freyjadour was not clueless of Lazlo's age. It's true he was older than he looks. Freyjadour could remember a bit the same face of Lazlo when he was ten or eleven.

Lazlo was a bit enigmatic, but yet normal. It's probably because Lazlo nurtured him to his adolescence that Lazlo's eccentric points were normal for him. Lazlo knew a lot of things. He was wise, knowledgeable and clever. He can wield many weapons though Freyjadour wasn't sure if Lazlo can wield dual swords since he never saw him do. Lazlo taught him how to wield swords, bows, and staffs, but never a tri-nunchaku.

"It's very difficult. I won't probably learn how now with my age," said Lazlo as he watched Freyjadour use his Twilight Nunchaku expertly. "How did you learn to use one?"

"My father did," Freyjadour answered quietly. Lazlo fell quiet as well. "Well, Lym's father anyway."

"He's as good as your father. Compared to your real father, he was a true and better father." Lazlo paused. "Did you like using it?"

"It's very useful," continued Freyjdaour as he joint the sections of his nunchaku into one to form a staff. "I had to learn how to use one since it's an heirloom. It wasn't easy mastering it."

"Do you think Lym should also learn how to fight?" asked Lazlo airily.

"Why?" asked Freyjadour cautiously, furrowing his eyebrows a bit.

"Why not?" asked Lazlo back.

"She doesn't have to."

"She can't?" offered Lazlo alternatively.

"Can she?"

Freyjadour knew her sister was strong. She was also brave and smart but she was blind and permanently injured. She doesn't have to fight because Freyjadour was with her. She can't fight because of how she is now and because of the past.

"Big brother!" Lymsleia called from where she sat in the dinner table.

"My, Lym! Your hearing is as sharp as ever!" said Miakis, spoon-feeding Lymsleia of their dinner.

"I can always tell when brother is around," said Lymsleia proudly.

Freyjadour took a seat on the other side of Lymsleia. "How was your day, Lym?" he asked.

"It was great," answered Lymsleia. "Tir and I played hide and seek. He thought he was going to win for sure." Lymsleia was giggling.

"He shouldn't have played with you in the first place just so he can win for sure," said Freyjadour, sounding irked.

Lymsleia laughed. "I know! It felt so good to step on his expectations. I wish I could have seen his face."

Miakis giggled. "You wish you could really see his face. He's so handsome!"

Both Lymsleia and Freyjadour blushed. "No, he isn't!" they shouted.

"Brother agrees with me," said Lymsleia stubbornly, crossing her arms. "The only man I can love is someone greater than brother and no one is greater than my brother!"

"Don't say that, Lym. You're encouraging your brother to be better more and more."

What Maikis said was true, which satisfied Freyjadour a lot.

"Frey, where's Lazlo?" asked Miakis, collecting the empty plates once dinner was over.

"Gone again," he answered. Just as he did, he heard knocking on the door. "Perhaps he's back now."

Freyjadour went to the doors, hearing knocking a couple of times again. He knew then it wasn't Lazlo. Lazlo only knocks a couple of times once. He opened fractionally the door but a hand from outside pushed the door open completely.

"Good evening, Freyjadour," said a smooth, female voice.

Freyjadour was surprised to see the woman just by his doorstep. A woman with a pale skin like Freyjadour, body adorned with a purple, flowing gown and long gold-like brown hair with violet highlights tied high in the head like a crown in sections by blue beads, smiled mildly. Her shoulders were covered with a cape whose top was a mountain tiger's fur. The icy blue designs on the bottom part of her cape looked like hot, burning flames or steaming ice. This extravagant clothing gave her a majestic air. With how regal her eyes were, it's not easy to argue about it.

The woman was not alone though. Behind her was a familiar man Freyjadour knew, but he appeared to be a soldier. He was a handsome man with a short, spiky black hair. His square-jaw face and black eyes looked matured, experienced, and serious but the kind smile on his lips made him looked fatherly. This was probably the smiles he gave his son who Freyjadour always called "the McDohl kid" or the "_that _boy."

Freyjadour noticed that only the two of them were on his doorstep—the Court Magician of Emperor Barbarossa, Windy and one of the Great Generals, Teo McDohl, the father of _that _boy—er, the McDohl Kid...

"Court Magician Windy," said Freyjadour, not hiding his surprise. "General Teo McDohl, good evening! Is there anything I could do for you?"

"I am accompanying Lady Windy. She wished to meet with you and suggested that I should too," said Teo.

Freyjadour's surprise disappeared but he was a bit nervous. When he was young, he was used meeting important people, but in the Scarlet Moon Empire, he's been known as a local commoner in Gregminister. Freyjadour knew how popular he was. He couldn't possibly believe it reached even the palace's ears. That was humiliating.

"Please come in," he said, stepping aside. Honestly, he hoped they would decline. He didn't want any trouble...why was he expecting one?

Teo's smile suddenly disappeared and a frown appeared on his face instead. His dominant hand held on the hilt of his sword and his body faced sideways.

Freyjadour and Lady Windy noticed the general's behaviour and soon felt the dangerous presence near by. Two swords were drawn out.

"Frey, get inside, it's getting late," came Lazlo's voice. He approached with his dual swords drawn out. General Teo became extremely cautious and alarmed for the man hadn't dropped his weapon yet. The general spread his feet apart and his grip to the hilt was tight. The two warriors appeared they were going to fight.

Freyjadour was again surprised. "Lazlo, it's Court Magician Windy—" Freyjadour's voice was cut and a shiver ran down on his spine. He had glanced at Lady Windy whose face must be angered. Instead, he found her smiling and starring at him...dare he say the word? _Suggestively._

Freyjadour stepped backwards a little. This went unnoticed to Teo who was watching Lazlo's relaxed position, making it difficult to predict his move.

"You must be the guardian of the two children in the manor," said Teo, deciding to start a conversation rather than keeping it quiet. It also made it easier to understand the intentions and motive of an opponent. Duels, like what they were going to have, were more exciting and honourable if there were more than swords that are going to meet.

"I wouldn't say children," said Lazlo. "But that particular boy there is younger than he looks."

Teo didn't understand what Lazlo said but made no comment about it. "Why do you draw your swords? We are not here on official business."

"That's what I thought." Lazlo's swords were still drawn out.

Freyjadour observed Lazlo's behaviour and his odd responses. As much as he tried to understand it, Lady Windy's gaze made him uncomfortable.

Lady Windy closed her eyes and turned to Lazlo this time. Her smile was amused. "I just wanted to see this talented man personally. General McDohl, this young man is very intellectual and strong with martial arts and weapons. You know how rare it is to find talented youths."

"They keep on coming out in numbers every generation," replied Teo, amused. "How old are you, Lazlo? You can't be older than this man."

"I actually am," answered Lazlo unhelpfully. "Not older than Lady Windy though."

"Making me feel old?" asked Lady Windy with a hint of coldness. "Perhaps some other time then. General McDohl, thank you for accompanying me. The man might be a bit ill-tempered at the moment from an exhausting trip."

"Of course, Lady Windy," answered Teo obediently. He let go of his guard slowly as the Court Magician walked away and Lazlo making no attempt to follow. He glanced at Freyjadour and nodded approvingly.

"I would like to meet you again, Freyjadour. My son has been speaking highly of you. I'm sure his reasons are mighty true." The general then followed Lady Windy, his lemon yellow cape, overused yet looking new, billowing as he turned.

Freyjadour hesitantly nodded, now confused. When the two left, Lazlo sheathed his dual swords, walking in front of Freyjadour. It was only up close and in the light did Freyjadour see that Lazlo was pale.

"Lazlo, where did you go?" asked Freyjadour with a demanding voice. He'd never seen Lazlo so pale.

"We'll talk tomorrow, Frey," he answered with a smile. This smile looked so different, holding no carefree or joking thoughts. "Wake up early, Frey. We will talk tomorrow," Lazlo repeated seriously when Freyjadour was about to protest. Lazlo wearily closed his eyes. "I need to talk to Miakis first."

Lazlo closed the door behind him as he entered, leaving Freyjadour standing.

"_The royal family is in a mess again..."_

"_Yes, yes, with the death of the Queen and the situation of the princess, Falena is doomed! The prince is useless. Perhaps if he marries a Godwin..."_

" _Or a Barrows! Honestly though, I don't think it would work."_

"_It seemed like Lady Sialeeds is planning to take on the throne rather than to hand it over to anyone."_

"_That woman..."_

"_She was supposed to marry Gizel Godwin, right? Then the Godwins will finally take the turn this time then."_

"_You never know. Lady Sialeeds might hold the Sacred Games for her. Marrying a queen is rather different. The past won't have anything to do with it."_

"_Lady Sialeeds can't be queen. She doesn't have any rights to the throne anymore. The prince would have to marry either a Godwin or a Barrows for a queen to be chosen."_

"_A Godwin or a Barrows QUEEN?"_

"_Hmm...Lady Lucerina of the Barrows seemed to be a fine choice for the prince..."_

_The mouths of the nobles were no different from the mouths of the local people. And so they continued to think they are higher and better than them when they could be as thick and low like them. Freyjadour had endured all the mutterings and all the issues he was put up. He had endured the death of his parents and the shock of almost losing his sister. His sister hadn't woken up but she was saved from death. This scar will always be in her, rendering her slower and unable to do normal tasks easily. She could still be Queen...if she wakes up._

_Days and days, he tried to become stronger. He was always alone then. No one had consoled him, no one had shared sympathies with him, no one was with him...When his sister woke up she was still the same for Freyjadour. She opened her eyes but saw nothing. Freyjadour knew she was still Lymsleia but enough was enough._

"_The prince is WHAT?"_

"_He wants to take the throne!"_

"_So the prince is taking advantage of the fact he is the only one in the royal bloodline that can inherit the throne...being a boy, he doesn't have the rights at all!"_

"_Haha, the lost of his parents may have made him a fool!"_

_He had called an audience, called the temporary Queen, his aunt, Sialeeds for an audience. Nobles—Godwins, Barrows, and the Queen's Knights—_

"_Queen Sialeeds," he declared loudly. "My mother, Queen Arshtat is dead, as well as my father, King Ferid and Commander of the Queen's Knights. Princess Lymsleia, my sister, is now blind and injured. I am the only one left, son of Queen Arshtat who holds the blood of my royal ancestors. I wish to borrow my sister's rights to the throne for the Queendom of Falena until she can rebuild her heart and mind."_

_Queen Sialeeds, her hair still dyed in brown, arched an eyebrow. "Aren't you so bold, Prince Freyjadour? Calling out an audience and making an impossible request..."_

_Freyjadour's heart stopped. "An impossible request?"_

_Queen Sialeeds laughed. "You think you can 'borrow' your sister's rights to the throne? Perhaps you want to steal it, being a male who can never inherit the throne..."_

"_I have no plans of stealing it!" shouted Freyjadour indignantly. "I want it for—"_

"_We don't need what you want, Prince," interrupted Queen Sialeeds. "We need what Falena needs. I think the decision has been made. Thank you for letting us witness your selfish—"_

"_HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?" he roared angrily. _

"_You dare interrupt, question and raise your voice to the Queen!" bellowed Queen Sialeeds. The unusual act of his aunt made Freyjadour falter in his stand. His happy-go-lucky, drunken aunt..._

"_Prince Freyjadour, for your act of selfishness, I tried to show mercy and let you go as if it never happened, but to persistently push forward, and go so far to deny the Queen's decisions, you must be punished! While I am queen of Falena, you are not to step inside my country! Your sister will suffer the same fate for your evil intentions and hunger for power! From now on, you two are going to live and die in the northern country, the Scarlet Moon Empire! You should consider yourself most fortunate for not landing in New Armes Kingdom!"_

Once again, the room was bright but Freyjadour's mind was dark. The same ceiling, the same room...never the same life.

"Lym!" Freyjadour called, buttoning the cuffs of his hip-length midnight blue cloth jacket whose straps were tied across, keeping the jacket locked together. Inside his jacket, reaching his waist was a loose white shirt. His bottom was a mahogany pants and his footwear consisted of black sandals. He had looked around the second floor if Lazlo was there. Lymsleia and Miakis were also out of their beds already. Freyjadour had overslept a bit.

"Lym, Miakis," he called around as soon as he reached downstairs. "Lazlo?"

No one was around the house.


	2. Dogs who become wolves

ERROR REPORT: Eight years was changed to seven years ; miscalculation

I added a flashback sort-of in the end, cutting plot advancement. I think it'd be too much if I included it, since three characters we all know will be mentioned/appearing. Let's save it for next time!

Also, I'm going to start looking for a beta reader .;

* * *

**True Runes: Freyjadour of the Rebellion**_**  
Chapter 2: Dogs who become wolves**_

* * *

It was almost seven years ago.

"You're not going to object?" asked the new queen, Sialeeds. She let a few moments to pass for him to object, ask, or say any assuring words. Instead, the conversation was left hanging.

The man she was talking to was hidden in the shadows. His face was obscured, but his dual swords resting on their scabbards stood out like gold in a chest of silver. There was a light-hearted smile that curved in his lips, letting out too a relaxed chuckle.

"Why would I object at a Queen's favour, especially to come up to me personally?"

Queen Sialeeds gently crossed her arms out of habit. She smiled too at the comment, but had hidden this with a split-second bow of her face. Her eyes gazed at the marble floor of the Queen's chamber. The flowing silver hair of hers followed, obscuring the smile that crooked to a bitter smile.

"Haha, me, a queen? It doesn't sound very motivating." She looked up again, trying to see his expression.

Queen Sialeeds saw a glimpse of his twitching lips. "I know."

"Since you have nothing else to say then, you should go now."

The man gave no nod, but he stood straight and gave a respectful bow. As he turned, Queen Sialeeds heard him mutter a few words. He had not muttered against her, but had muttered words that he could not simply say loudly.

Queen Sialeeds placed a hand on her temples. "I'm the one who's supposed to be sorry, Lazlo..."

On the same year then, Prince Freyjadour and Princess Lymsleia were dead.

The Queendom of Falena had heard of their exile but they were reportedly dead. At the times of strife, exile is a euphemism for death. The Scarlet Moon Empire was not only an enemy of the Queendom, but was suffering too from war aftermath of the recent war against Jowston. The war ended quite sooner that what many had expected, especially Freyjadour. Tired from the Succession War, citizens have called for anti-war sentiments but after the Kalekka Incident, the empire gave everything they had to drive the invaders away.

Freyjadour was glad that no war flamed the whole country. He didn't want to get involved...didn't want Lymsleia to get involved.

Freyjadour had not sworn the way Miakis did to protect Lymsleia. Miakis was bound by duty and honour at first, but sisterly love dominated today. Freyjadour's oath was bound by blood. Even at Lymsleia's birth, Freyjadour swore to protect her—always.

"I hate you, I hate you! This is all your fault! You're NOTHING, NOTHING!"

Bitter words filled with resentment came from Lymsleia's mouth. She cried and stomped angrily, hurting her mentally and physically. An eleven-year-old Freyjadour accepted any weak punching or kicking from his sister with his head bowed, and making no reply. Lymsleia had opened her eyes, but Freyjadour could see how pale and empty they were. Doctors have checked—there was nothing wrong with her eyes, but yet, Lymsleia could not see.

Lymsleia coughed, having forced herself to scream at the top of her lungs. Her lungs were barely functional at the moment. It was a miracle she was alive after her lungs survived a deep wound they received. Lymsleia could no longer talk out loud or bear physical activities.

Freyjadour could not apologize. His apology will not do Lymsleia any good. It will not make her or return her body in full health. He was nothing...powerless...

She was right; right to blame him, right to hate him, right to call him 'nothing'.

A week after that, they were sent to their new land as exiles of their homeland. Why were they still alive, contrary to what most people would have thought and concluded?

"I will protect you, Lymsleia," he told her again and again.

They were homeless in a foreign land. With nothing to eat, Freyjadour turned a deaf ear to the voice of his mother, telling him to be strong and remain good. There was no good in this world anymore. He had seen that it was just all a facade. Life as a royalty was a fake. He soon knew that in the inside of the shells of his own homeland, there were those starving because of the corrupted. The Godwins and his treacherous aunt, now Queen Sialeeds, were among those who have been running the chain of sins of criminals in history. Freyjadour's spite originated from this newfound knowledge—knowledge only selected people knew.

Freyjadour had his nunchaka, the heirloom of the royalty. It was a weapon to be used for Falena, but he was now using it for the survival of his and his sister. No one can blame them; they were victims—it was this world to be blamed. He wasn't wrong—the world was.

A month or two, this was how they lived. They were at least able to eat twice a day and camp outside with large, banana leaves and a little fire. It was more difficult to stay near towns, cities or villages. People often stared and ridicule. It angered Freyjadour. There was no peace even for them near people, people who were ignorant of the truth he learned.

Lymsleia could not remain angry at Freyjadour. He gave her everything she needed and wanted. Lymsleia was not very demanding; she didn't want to owe Freyjadour anything. The ice had not melted completely, but Freyjadour is fine as long as Lymsleia is happy and alive. Sometimes, she asked, when she felt like breaking her 'silent treatment', where they were and how they could still get clothes and food—Freyjadour always lies.

Tonight, Freyjadour heard of the annual prayers for good harvest, conducted by the Crowned Prince himself, Barbarossa Rugner. This would take at least a week since the Prince will be going around the Kunan Region. The nearest place to where they were was Antei and the Prince's entourage should be heading there soon.

"I'm going to be late tonight, Lym," said Freyjadour as he took his weapon.

It was the second time Freyjadour visited to Antei. His first time was just the other day. He wasn't there for any particular reason but he had taken the habit to familiarize himself to his future workplace. He appeared to be a local boy with a dull, red tunic with black strings on the collar and beige shorts. He recently took a black leather cape in an inn and has been using it to keep himself warm during his night raids. His constant problem was his hair and face.

He knew he had to get a hood someday, or a really big hat.

Freyjadour stayed straying from the light. The evening was gowned with preparations for the prayer to be conducted by the Crowned Prince. Everyone was anxious and excited, checking every corner to be spotless and the decorations to be beautiful. Musicians were rehearsing and the mayor of the town has been looking at the mirror served by his servants for hours. These events were normally described as a celebration, but for Freyjadour, it was a large gathering to gain audience for those with power. After all, it was the Crowned Prince who will be coming.

Politics was none of his business. Freyjadour remained inconspicuous staying in the back of the crowds from their divided attention. He could smell the buffet held tonight, but with the grand celebration, he could take something he could sell instead.

The noisy preparations hushed when someone alerted of the royal entourage coming.

The carriage carrying Prince Barbrossa along with his wife, Princess Claudia, rolled into view. Their royal guards formed a single line on the two stairs at the front of the town. The door was opened for them and came out first Prince Barbarossa. He lent his hand to the beautiful Princess Claudia whose white gown fitted her flawless skin. Her golden hair was like the sun and her blue eyes carried any gaze to anywhere. She was a beauty.

The ceremony started immediately. The mayor introduced the celebration and the Prince gave a speech. Afterwards, the dancers and the musicians played while they all feasted on food that was harvested earlier. Freyjadour took this moment to move around. He couldn't move a muscle during the speech because he would be seen too obviously. Now that everyone is relaxed and the guards were more focused on protecting the Prince, he nicked a few pouches of potch successfully and with ease.

The main event of course was the religious prayer for the harvest. The gathering became solemn and Freyjadour leaned back to avoid being sighted.

He watched them, chanting prayers solemnly.

He then recalled the people under the King of the Queendom of Falena, chanting their oath solemnly to the Queen.

Each figure in front of him changed to women and men in black and gold robes. Most became the nobles from the Godwin and the Barrows family. The town melted in bright morning. Surrounding the new town was the Feitas River. And instead of the moon above was the sun. Not too far from the sun was the castle, glistening as the symbol of Falena.

"_Let our mercy as deep as the Feitas and our authority as powerful as the Sun, be revealed to the entire World."_

_Three new recruits joined the Queen's Knights, with only King Ferid, Commander of the Queen's Knights, Galleon, and Zahhak left since the last war. Miakis was capable to fight too, but she was employed to be Lymsleia's bodyguard, capable of not only protecting her, but nurturing her. Because of this, she was absent and separated from the Queen's Knights._

_After the ceremony, after a day of utmost curiosity Freyjadour failed to restrain, and after King Ferid's introductory speech with the Queen's Knights, he introduced them to him._

"_Frey," called his 'father'._

_Freyjadour hesitated, but didn't want to show it in front of the King—his father's Knights. He has been at the side, waiting for his father to call him. It wasn't a formal gathering. They were in the room of the Queen's Knights. Though he shouldn't be inside, King Ferid just ignored the rule, "Royalty is an exception as usual."_

"_Frey, meet Alenia, daughter of Johanne who fought and died bravely in the battle two years ago."_

_Orange hair, gray eyes…she bowed. She looked nervous and stiff, but King Ferid laughed at her needless anxiety. She greeted Frey respectfully and Freyjadour returned the gesture._

"_And this young man here is Kyle. He fought in the battlefield in the last war valiantly."_

"_Great to see you, Prince!" the blond and blue-eyed young man greeted. He was not exactly cheerful, but he was relaxed and calm. Something in him kept his spirits high and passionate. Freyjadour could not help but smile at him. _

"_Your majesty took me here on the spot. It's a real honour to be a Queen's Knights, but I was worried there would be no beautiful women here."_

"_My mo—Queen Arshtat and Lady Sialeeds are beautiful," argued Freyjadour._

_Kyle gave him a weird but genuine smile Freyjadour didn't understand. King Ferid cleared his throat, but what caught everyone's attention was a restrained laugh that turned out to be a snort. The last to be introduced turned away as the heads turned to him. King Ferid grinned widely._

"_Well, I didn't know this was your type of comedy," commented King Ferid._

"_Excuse me," he said, clearing his throat. If he had laughed at that, he erased all trace of it. His deep blue eyes that even contested with the Feitas River looked at Freyjadour whose eyes were only lighter and bigger than his. _

"_My name is Evander. Like your father, I am from the Island Nations."_

"_Don't you mean 'His Majesty', Evander?" came Alenia's slow threat. _

"_Ah, don't be too formal. I'm not really that type of person who wants be called 'His Majesty' all the time," said King Ferid._

_Galleon smiled a bit from the comment, but the other veteran remained silent. _

"_Hm…Evander is the only one who wields two swords," observed Freyjadour, looking hopefully to his father._

_King Ferid gave him his wanted praise, putting a hand on his shoulder. "That's right. The swords he used are smaller, but it isn't easy wielding two swords especially in the battlefield."_

"_The Prince uses a three-sectioned staff. It is among the most difficult weapon there is," said Evander. "It's very difficult. I could never learn how now with my age."_

_His last statement raised some arguments, since Evander was still too young to think as such, being in his late twenties. Freyjadour was a bit curious with this Queen's Knight, but Evander's and Freyjadour's fate never crossed seriously…_

…_until _that_ day._

But on this day, he met the greatest man he knew.

Prince Barbarossa's night was coming to an end. As he strolled with his guards along with Princess Claudia, he noticed the child with silver hair and azure eyes. Freyjadour felt the lingering, regal gaze and looked up.

The Crowned Prince did not see the eyes of a child, but the eyes of a dog that became a wolf.

Freyjadour gave no thought in his gaze. He looked and moved away, but strangely, the Prince wanted to follow him. He couldn't do so without breaking from his guards and taking attention. Princess Claudia's eyes followed the Prince's and saw the young child. She placed a hand on his arm and looked at him with a meaningful glance. He nodded and beckoned two guards to be with her.

Freyjadour was out of Antei when he realized he was being followed. He pulled out his three-sectioned staff and prepared to do the first attack. It was very dark, but the moon's light gave sufficient light to those under its sky.

"Please don't be alarmed."

Freyjadour heard three pairs of footsteps stopping, only a pair coming out. The voice was that of a female. Coming from a Queendom, Freyjadour is more cautious of women more than men. Women were hard to understand. They were complex humans that can hide any secrets. They were snakes who would remain quiet and hiss, then lunge and eat its victim whole.

Princess Claudia walked with godly grace. Her hair and skin were shining vibrantly under the moonlight. Freyjadour's eyes glistened in the same manner, but their beauty was ripped off from Freyjadour's loathing.

"Children shouldn't be outside, alone," she said. "Wouldn't you like to stay for tonight in Antei?"

This only caused him to be more alarmed.

"I will not force you," she assured, reading ahead. "I am simply concerned."

Freyjadour gave no answer again. Princess Claudia approached slowly.

"No one noticed you there when you're such a handsome boy, but you don't want to be noticed, do you?" She respected Freyjadour's space and stopped with a good distance between them. Her knees slowly reached to the ground. Princess Claudia sat down with her hands on her lap. At this way, she would be looking at the eleven-year-old almost eye to eye.

"You should smile more often," and like a teacher, she smiled. "My name is Claudia."

She stretched her hand a little. Freyjadour backed away. He looked at her and then—ran.

The next day, barely sleeping that night, he came back to Antei. He asked himself why he was here, why he ran as soon as the sun was up and lingered in the inn.

She saw him through the window. Freyjadour ran.

Prince Barbarossa came in their room and saw the former prince running away. He met his wife's sly smile and look. "Claudia, why do you insist on staying and waiting?"

"He will come."

"Why do you not tell the Prince of Falenas we can give him home and everything he and his sister need? Lady Leknaat had seen his star, a promising star..." The Crowned Prince stopped speaking because of his wife's chuckles. Royalty would normally be insulted, but with just the two of them, they were no 'prince' or 'princess' at all.

"To even think you are the Crowned Prince of the Scarlet Moon Empire," scolded Princess Claudia with humour in her voice.

Prince Barbarossa put a hand on his forehead, laughing as he shook his head. "I can never be proud of the respect I earned from other people with you around."

"I am doing my job as your wife then," she replied lovingly.

And the day after that, Freyjadour came again, but Lymsleia became suspicious of her brother's behaviour. Freyjadour denied whatever she had in mind, but this only prompted Lymsleia to go with him. She grabbed his hand and demanded him to lead her whether he went since the day before yesterday.

Freyjadour could only smile.

"It's so noisy!" said Lymsleia as they entered Antei. "Hmm, I hear water running...a fountain? Is that what you've been doing? Playing in the fountain?"

"Of course not," he said, laughing a bit. Freyjadour pulled her gently to the fountain and led her hand to touch the water.

"It's cold!" Lymsleia's face reddened. Both her hands were now submerged in the water. She swam her hands in there and felt a tickling sensation on the back of her hands. She raised her hands out of the water and felt the jet of water coming out of the source. Lymsleia's smile widened and felt this as the same fountain in Sol-Falena. She reached out, leaning closer. She thought that maybe, maybe if she did, she'd...

"Lym! Don't get too close—be careful!" Freyjadour didn't want to pull away her arms. He touched her shoulders with both hands, pulling her away with the least force he can manage without hurting her.

Having his hands dug on her shoulders, he was unprepared for the water that head towards his face. Lymsleia laughed, her offending hands sprinkling water to her brother. Though only a small amount of water went flying to Freyjadour's face, it was enough to make his whole face wet.

Freyjadour wiped his face with his hands. Rather than getting angry, he was surprised. He peered through his wet eyelashes Lymsleia's face, one that is laughing. He smiled, because he feared that if he laughed or did something else, Lymsleia's laughter will be gone—a fragile laughter he didn't want to touch.

Lymsleia's laughter stopped in a second of confusion, listening closely. Freyjadour looked around to what she might be hearing, but all he saw was Princess Claudia out in the broad daylight. She was accompanied by two guards as she approached them. Freyjadour slowly grabbed Lymsleia's wrist and this confused the young princess.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked her brother.

"Why are you still here?" demanded Freyjadour quietly.

"I was waiting for you," answered Princess Claudia serenely.

Lymsleia moved forward a bit, trying to push Freyjadour away. "Waiting? For him? Why? Did he do something again? My brother's such a useless person sometimes! He's good for nothing!"

Freyjadour decided to stare away from Princess Claudia's eyes, but he knew they were looking at him with utmost surprise. He felt no shame or humiliation, but he didn't want to answer anything. He didn't want her to correct Lymsleia either, because she was right.

"You shouldn't talk about your brother like that," said Princess Claudia with a thin trace of reproving.

Lymsleia's eyebrows glared at the source of the voice. "Shut up! Who are you to say that?"

"Lym!" Freyjadour tugged her anxiously. He desperately looked at Princess Claudia. "I'm so sorry! Please forget anything we've said." He hastily tried to bow. "I'll accept any punishment, but don't harm Lym, and please let me live! I can't die yet—"

"What are you talking about?" interjected Lymsleia restlessly all of a sudden. "Yo-you're not se-serious! This isn't funny!" Suddenly, she was trying to control her tears.

"I won't do anything to anyone," said Princess Claudia. "I would never harm anyone, not especially children."

Freyjadour breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank you…"

"Are you two hungry? It's almost lunch, and my husband is somewhere else at the moment."

Freyjadour's relief disappeared and his cautiousness returned. He glowered at Princess Claudia, but could not easily say anything, fearing she would be given a reason to decide on a punishment on them now. He bit his tongue for their sake, thinking if they would be pursued if they ran. Why did he take Lymsleia here? Why was she still here?

Lymsleia, unaware of the royalty in front of her, piped, "You should!"

"Lym!" whispered Freyjadour urgently.

"What is it now?" she said impatiently. "I'm hungry!"

Princess Claudia chuckled softly. "Thank you for accepting my offer."

"Well, come on!" she told Freyjadour, nudging the hand Freyjadour's hand gripped.

They were taken to a room in the inn to get more privacy. Seeing two children with the wife of the Crowned Prince will raise a lot of curiosity and rumours. Lymsleia was oblivious about that until Freyjadour whispered that to her ear once they were in a room.

"WHAT?" she yelled and Freyjadour recoiled since his ear was close to Lymsleia's mouth.

Princess Claudia dismissed the guards and sat with the two children in the small table. It was a fine room. The accommodations were excellent, but nobles would think this is an insult for them. However, Princess Claudia insisted on something simple and should be glad enough for their hospitality.

"You're a princess!" shouted Lymsleia accusingly.

"Lym!" warned Freyjadour again and Lymsleia listened this time, cupping her mouth.

"I see your brother told me, but there is no need to feel conscious. You can call me Claudia, but in public, I'm afraid you would have to call me the formal way."

Lymsleia nodded. "That's how we were told too! We can't call our mother "mother" in front of people since she's queen."

"Lym—" Freyjadour grabbed his weapon and looked at Princess Claudia—

She was smiling, nodding her head. "Please relax. I want to talk, not to ask questions. Please eat."

Freyjadour gave no reply and went to feed Lymsleia who happily opened her mouth. She seemed to be in an extra-good mood.

"I'm Lymsleia!" she said after swallowing her food. "Or Lym, and this is my brother, Frey."

"You two have very nice names. Lym, how old are you?"

"Four!"

Princess Claudia drank from her goblet. She had barely eaten and Freyjadour suspected she had just eaten. "Four, my, and you are already very articulate."

Lymsleia nodded. "I can already talk when I was one! Then I started learning when I was three!"

"And the year is about to end." Princess Claudia smiled gently. "Your parents must be so proud."

This surprised the two siblings, quieting them both. Lymsleia raised her hands to wipe the tears forming on her closed eyes.

"Lym…!" Freyjadour dropped her spoon, wanting to do something, but had nothing to wipe her tears. His surprise came again when Princess Claudia pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to him. He stared at the item and at Princess Claudia before accepting it. He cleaned her face gently with the cloth, putting down his sister's hands. "Shh…Lym, you're a very smart and tough girl. Don't cry in front of your meal…"

"Don't scold me!" sniffed Lymsleia, trying to push him away, but she stopped crying nonetheless. "I just don't like how she said it."

"Me too," he muttered quietly.

Even so, it was Princess Claudia that welcomed them to a place. This was the first time they were under a roof by someone's hospitality. Lymsleia smiled again despite her tears. She talked animatedly. Freyjadour did not even feel the need to eat.

As long as Lymsleia is happy.

"You will be in a new home in Gregminister, taken care by the assistant of our seer, Lady Leknaat," said Prince Barbarossa. Princess Claudia smiled beside him. "His name is Lazlo."

Freyjadour and Lymsleia were taken in for a short while by the couple. It wasn't the same as life like royalty despite living in a palace. In that temporary home, there was no pressure, no arguments, and no responsibilities. Formalities were reserved outside.

Freyjadour had especially taken a liking towards Prince Barbarossa. He was a great prince. He can fight with a sword, but had always fought against wars with peace. He was a great man who Freyjadour owned many things. He looked at Princess Claudia like a sister than a mother unlike Lymsleia.

He knew they weren't going to be taken in by the royal couple. He had nothing against the Scarlet Moon Empire, but he was still paranoid, fearing they would use them at a desperate situation as political tools. He didn't want to get involved in politics, in wars, and in any ambitions.

Prince Barbarossa was not like that of course, but how about his father? His uncle? His other brothers?

Freyjadour knew getting them in did not go too peacefully. It did not reach the ears of the public, but Prince Barbarossa's family of course knew. He heard them become quiet, then burst into thoughts, debating about taking in two orphans.

Not once though did anyone realize or question if they were from royalty. Princess Claudia may have told Prince Barbarossa, but both of them kept a tight lip about it.

Now that they were going to be under a new person, were they going to be safer?

Freyjadour looked at the man in his late twenties. His eyes were deep and filled with much wisdom. His brown, shoulder-length hair coated his oval head and his bangs partly covered the red band around his forehead. The man wore a black sleeveless under a cropped white vest with red turtleneck. When he bowed slightly and offered his hand to Freyjadour, he saw thick white gloves covering both his hands.

As Freyjadour raised his hand to shake it, the man retracted it and patted his head instead. He blinked, hearing the man laugh.

"It's good to see you, Frey."

It was as if they had known each other a long time ago, and much deeper.

"It's good to see you again, Freyjadour."

Freyjadour stared at the face one can easily mistake as Princess Claudia's, but the glint in her eyes and the smile on her lips were not Princess Claudia's.

He had heard knocking on the door and the instant he answered it, he was greeted with Lady Windy and armed soldiers. He managed not to slam the door close on impulse (but his wrist itched to flick).

"Is something the matter, Lady Windy?" he asked cautiously and slowly, eying at the armed soldiers behind her.

"We are looking for the head of the house, your guardian, Lazlo," she answered smoothly, biting the words very well. "This is by the order of His Majesty."

"_His Majesty?"_ thought Freyjadour with shock. "What is the reason for this?"

Freyjadour honestly knew many reasons, but did not realize it was this serious.

Ever since Princess Claudia was killed in the Succession War.

"Lazlo…"

The eleven-year-old Freyjadour didn't know how to approach him, but it's been almost a year since they last saw each other. They've spent times together like a real family, everything about Falena forgotten. But war separated them…

"Master!" cried the young man's student. Her gray-blue eyes were tainted with sad tears. Her emotions were violent, but forcibly restrained, notably by the way she was holding Freyjadour's little hand. Freyjadour was also on the same emotional grip, but gritted his teeth to fight it off.

"Odessa, there's no need to cry," hushed Lazlo like a father. "Just…remain strong, become stronger. Protect Frey and Lym for me."

Odessa lowered her head and cast her eyes away. Half of her wanted to be strong and make him proud, but half of her wanted to be a normal girl and just cry in front of him, because the whole part of her didn't want him to go. She was scared inside, but lied with her words because she knew her fear will grow weakness.

"I will…" her whisper shook.

Lazlo put a hand on his head. Freyjadour looked at him innocently. He knew where he was about to head, but still, he did not understand the causalities and meaning of war. He knew Lazlo might die, but somehow, he thought, it was impossible…

"Goodbye," bid Freyjadour.

"Bye."

…because Lazlo said…

"…I'll come back."

So, even as he watched that back shrink farther, Freyjadour knew.

"I will come back."

He will come back.

Even if he knew war, even if he knew his promise, he never understood the meaning behind it all.

He and his sister spent mundane days without Lazlo, days that were empty. Under the temporary care of Odessa's family, the Silverberg, they were once again blessed with luxury. They fled to the City-States of Jowston with Odessa's brother, Mathiu, who was insisted to stay to observe the war by his father, but refused. He was called a coward, but Mathiu ignored the callings and left Scarlet Moon Empire and its war.

Everyday, Odessa would swing her dual swords, the similar swords Lazlo have. Freyjadour watched in awe and often sparred with her. Odessa had always been bitter the several times Freyjadour wins or loses only by a draw. She wasn't particularly too proud by defeating an eleven-year-old, but Freyjadour made sure that Odessa would win or else, he feared, that she would cry again.

"Eh? You lost again?" was Lymsleia's line all the time. Freyjadour played dumb, smiling weakly even if she couldn't see it. Lymsleia placed her hands on her hips, curling her lips. Freyjadour was confused why she was a bit pinkish. "You stupid brother! Odessa is not crying because she loses to you!"

Freyjadour wondered just how smart his sister was because he didn't understand what she meant. Often, she say things he didn't understand, like the reason Freyjadour shouldn't cry, the reason Freyjadour should comfort crying girls rather than standing (he was always there for Lymsleia, but felt he shouldn't do anything when Odessa cries), the reason he should dye his hair black, the reason he should learn how to sing, the reason…well, they get crazier each time and Freyjadour is starting to think he shouldn't trust his sister about things he wouldn't understand.

He thought of what Lymsleia said about Odessa and her tears. He planned to spar with her again, attempting to win this time. However, he and Lymsleia suddenly talked about Lazlo and Freyjadour had placed his hand on her head just like how Lazlo did to him.

"He'll come back," he said.

Freyjadour was completely innocent and guiltless of anything, but Odessa came up all of a sudden and challenged him to a spar. She was oddly serious and aggressive. Freyjadour became desperate in their spar that turned to a duel and ended it with a draw. Odessa lost one of her swords and Freyjadour was completely empty-handed. Afterwards, she cried even though she was smiling.

Freyjadour just stood there, asking why she was crying quite, flustered, and Lymsleia threw her shoe in the air, luckily hitting Freyjadour in the head. Odessa laughed and Freyjadour just smiled.

Odessa was a Silverberg, where many prominent military strategists came from. Freyjadour heard of them, but they weren't very popular in the Queendom of Falena. Odessa was less of a strategist but a warrior and a leader. He met her a day they stayed under Lazlo, discovering that she has been an apprentice under Lazlo two years ago. None of them shared their story how it began though.

Odessa was like a sister for Freyjadour and he was her little brother. Mathiu was quite a stranger for him. Even Odessa disliked her brother who shook his head of disapproval upon learning she took up learning to wield a weapon. Every time Odessa felt like ranting, Freyjadour was there to listen. Odessa was among the few people Lymsleia listened. They argued when they first met, especially at Odessa's dislike for the way she treats her brother.

"You should be embarrassed," berated Odessa. "I have more respect from your sister than you have from her."

And Freyjadour replies, replies more and more, smiling less often in reply. This was how they survived during the Succession War, how his life never seemed to stop.

After the war ended, they went home, hearing too the news of Princess Claudia's death. As he stared at Lazlo, he recalled the plan they devised.

"_When we come back, Lym, let's smile and…" Freyjadour blushed slightly. He was excited to meet Lazlo again. He was happy he was fine, but he wanted to make Lazlo happier. "And Lym, do you want to call him…dad?" He hesitated and added hastily, "it's less formal than 'father'! But if you don't feel right…"_

"_Of course I don't!" she said. Freyjadour looked at her face and saw her blush. "But…but if you really want to!"_

"_We'll do it together then!" he said, relieved that her sister agreed with him for once._

"_Hm! How timid of you!"_

But now, they couldn't smile. Lymsleia was crying over Princess Claudia's death. Freyjadour have consoled her, but even he was breaking inside. His concern of Lymsleia has no bounds, but Odessa was with her to support Lymsleia's emotional needs. He looked through the doorway, starring at Lazlo whose eyes were peering outside the evening sky.

He didn't know how to approach him, because he wasn't the same man who promised to come back. He felt like Lazlo hadn't, like his heart was left behind in the war. It was as if his heart died in the war.

He couldn't call him 'dad' because it didn't feel right. He stood up and approached him. As he called his name, he slowly stirred around. He tried to think what to say as he turned, but nothing came to his mind. His mind was blank, but his heart wanted to pour out many things.

Lazlo looked at him with unfamiliar eyes. Freyjadour's voice disappeared and his breaths went shorter. He opened his mouth, loosely hanged.

He used his little breaths to speak and managed to choke out two words. "Welcome back."

Freyjadour cried.

Lazlo approached him and placed a hand on his head. Somehow, the hand felt heavier, as if there lays a heavy burden with it.

"Frey, times will be harder now. Claudia is gone and Barbarossa is already…a different man."

His crying stopped and he looked at his guardian because of his statement. He gasped to see tears in his eyes.

"I…I'm tired, Frey. I'm…" Lazlo gritted his teeth. The young boy can feel his hand on his head tighten. Lazlo tilted his head away and squeezed his eyes shut. Beads of tears rolled his eyes uncontrollably to a sudden flowing stream. "I'm tired…I want to be judged, punished…I'm tired, Frey…I'm so tired." He muttered as if talking to a priest, confessing sins he could not utter, but only regret.

He embraced him in a tight hug. Freyjadour was disoriented, but it was a hug he never received before.

Freyjadour felt anger rising in him as he stood face to face in front of Lady Windy. "If it was about last night—"

"We have received information that he is part of a rebellion, and evidence-" Lady Windy interrupted, making a crooked smile. "-of his murder of the late wife of His Majesty, Princess Claudia."

Freyjadour's anger diminished and he stared at her eyes—lying eyes! "Rebellion? Murder? What are you talking about?" _Lazlo?_

"It appears he has a habit of killing queens."

"_Frey, I want to die already."_


	3. The enemy of the enemy

TIR'S AGE NOTE: so according to Suikoden Radio Drama 2, Tir is 14 years old in S1…DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT *growls* so he might pass as one by appearance…but seriously! Aren't they exaggerating it a little…I mean, Luc was 14 too, and his voice was like that of an 18-year-old. Lelouch's voice disappointed me!

So Tir will remain SIXTEEN, born under SY 399

**

* * *

True Runes: Freyjadour of the Rebellion**_**  
Chapter 3: the enemy of the enemy**_

* * *

A disturbing woman, a disturbing comment, a disturbing feeling – Freyjadour did not know how he managed to stand still, facing eye to eye with Lady Windy. He never really knew the Court Magician, but he remembered being approached several times, even when he first came. He was a bit uncomfortable when she was around, but he had always thought it was due to the lady's strong magic, but there was obviously more to that. He wasn't clueless too of the unexplained hostility between Lady Windy and Lazlo.

_Of course._ Freyjadour's knees suddenly felt strong. Lady Windy never liked Lazlo. She must be twisting the truth to satisfy her pride. Besides, what exactly did she mean by 'a habit of killing queens'? Freyjadour thought it was a figurative speech using irony, since Lady Claudia was queen (or would have been, if she still lives after the emperor's coronation), but it felt more devious than that. It wasn't too suspicious enough to indulge Freyjadour to ask though.

"He is not here," he said, expressing bridled anger, which only Lady Windy's eyes could possibly see flickering. "There's no traitor in this house."

"But there are traitors," countered Lady Windy. "Wherever they are, they are traitors."

Something about the last statement made Freyjadour's stomach churned, but he remained strong and impassive on the outside, making sure Lady Windy has no reason to do anything else within her power. Freyjadour was given no reason to believe in Lady Windy's words, but he has many to believe Lazlo. Even if he was up to something, there was an explanation Freyjadour is willing to listen to on the right time. Right now, he has to make time for the right one.

"What exactly is your evidence against him, Lady Windy?" he questioned, only partially interested in his own question. He was just stalling, finding the need to occupy Lady Windy, though he has no idea if his tactics would work or not.

She chuckled softly. "Evidence? Are you seeking to find a counter against it? For his crime, he does not deserve a trial. This isn't a crime that will call to hear out the two sides, Freyjadour...it's a shame, really," she said with a suppressed sweetness in her voice.

"What is?"

Her eyes disappeared behind her eyelids. "If he had murdered an ordinary person, then the emperor would have been lenient, but even if he decided to show mercy to the murderer of his wife, the people would rebel..." Lady Windy's eyes reappeared, bearing a different sparkle the Court Magician rarely shows. "Only his death would satisfy the emperor and his people. Even for so many years...even if hundreds of years had gone by, this could not be forgiven...a victim has to be a murderer to kill a murderer."

Lady Windy suddenly left with the soldiers, leaving Freyjadour holding his breath for a few seconds, waiting for them to disappear before rushing in their house.

Something in Lady Windy's words felt different. It was frightening, yet there was a saddening feeling too somewhere in the roots of anger...

It was...familiar...

"This is the first time to meet my sister's apprentice."

Freyjadour looked at the two adults whose experiences made him much more little. Lymsleia insisted on staying at home. The former prince felt suspicious as the girl was fidgety and anxious about something. When Freyjadour asked if she was up to something, she raised her voice angrily at Freyjadour, but even the Lym-scolding-Frey mode behaviour felt different.

Lazlo felt it better for Lymsleia not to come, since she would simply grow bored in their tour around the palace. Freyjadour thought the same too, but his reason was quite different.

He can still remember the marble walls of the Sol Falena Palace. It was bigger than the emperor's palace, but that could be because of its architecture. Sol Falena Palace was like a mountain towering overhead while the palace here was like a labyrinth. There were many light-bearing chandeliers, painting the marbled walls and floor to gold. There were red carpets rolled on the ground and armours, paintings, and ornaments along the wall. The palace was filled with many people, none of them taking notice of the three figures having a discussion inside a semi-enclosed room.

Lady Windy welcomed Lazlo and Freyjadour into the palace. It was awfully busy, but the people had taken notice of them when they pass, providing a gentle nod of the head. They were courteous, but too busy to give hospitality.

"I am Lazlo," the man introduced himself with a smile.

"I'm Freyjadour," the young boy followed, bowing slightly.

"She is the Court Magician, Lady Windy," said Lazlo, gesturing to the blond maiden. "Lady Windy, thank you for being our hostess tonight. We appreciate your hospitality."

Lady Windy returned the gesture with a smile. Something in that smile felt wicked, but young Freyjadour figured it was simply his inferiority.

"You are good friends with the emperor. I am honoured to welcome you on behalf of the emperor. So, how is my sister?"

"She is fine, Lady Windy, though with two children under my care now, Lady Leknaat would have to reschedule for my delays."

"Why not bring the children in the Magician's Island? It would be of more convenience."

Lazlo shook his head. "That would make them isolated." He put a hand on Freyjadour's head unconsciously. Caught off-guard by the touch, the silver-haired prince dodged, casting an alarmed look at the hand. Both Lazlo and Lady Windy looked at Freyjadour, helping the boy realize what he has done. A small blush crawled on his cheeks, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

"I'm-I'm sorry," he said with the most apologetic voice he has.

"No, I should be sorry," said Lazlo hesitantly, trying to smile. He let it out with a chuckle, setting down his hand on the boy's shoulder. "What kind of guardian I would be, haha..."

Lady Windy fixed her eyes at Freyjadour. "You must be a strong boy. After being abandoned, left to take care of a handicapped sister, you wandered for months. Yet, you appeared to be fine...tell me, where did you come from?"

Freyjadour avoided her eyes. He'd rather keep quiet than lie, or else they might become suspicious...

"He probably won't remember anymore," answered Lazlo for Freyjadour.

"Don't be ridiculous. They didn't grow in the streets. It hasn't been years for him to forget."

"It doesn't really matter where he came from, Lady Windy. He already has a home."

Lady Windy gazed at Lazlo, sensing an indirect and implied hostility over something from her sister's apprentice.

"You're growing to be a protective parent already, Lazlo."

Lazlo decided to answer the half-joking statement with a laugh. "I just hope I wouldn't have to deal with teenage rebellions."

"No, I think he can do more than that," she replied ominously. This made Freyjadour look at Lady Windy, only to regret this decision later on, finding her eyes met his. "He will start a rebellion."

"A rebellion?" Lazlo's eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, a rebellion...a rebellion like no other. You must be familiar with it, Lazlo. Rebellions that were meant to change the course of history and gather the stars..."

Lady Windy's crooked smiled gleamed with her eyes. A bit of excitement rushed into her expression as if before her stood the future she greatly spoke of.

The eyes Lady Windy had at that time were the same pair he saw with the same woman just a while ago. Freyjadour was silent for a few moments at the flashback...

"_Yes, a rebellion...a rebellion like no other. You must be familiar with it, Lazlo..."_

Freyjadour's eyes snapped. Could she be talking about the Anti-Imperial Movement? No, it can be something that had happened in the past, something that doesn't involve Lazlo at any uprising. The two of them never met before then. He shouldn't assume Lazlo had done something in the past, something to give anyone the reason to mark him a traitor.

Still, Freyjadour didn't understand what Lady Windy meant about rebellions that were meant to change the course of history and the gathering of the stars...

Later that night, Miakis and Lymsleia came home. Freyjadour saved the sighs of relief later after he would demand where they've been.

"Miakis, Lym, where have the two of you been?" he demanded. Honestly, he sounded like a mother sometimes. He only needed to add, "I was worried sick" to prove it.

Miakis only grinned. The twenty-three-year-old woman was acting childish on the contrary. "Lym and Tir went on a date!"

"No, we didn't!" Lymsleia denied indignantly, curling her fists at Miakis. Her honest, desperate face that didn't want to make her bother mad faced Freyjadour. "I wanted to go outside, so Tir offered to walk me..."

"Why didn't you ask Miakis?" asked Freyjadour suspiciously.

"She was still asleep..."

Freyjadour glared at the feigned innocence on Miakis' face. Liar.

"Was Gremio with the boy?" he further asked. When Lymsleia swallowed guiltily, Freyjadour's frown deepened. "Lym!"

"Bu-but we were planning to walk just for a while! But then we heard noises near the forest..." Lymsleia's voice was starting to shake, knowing that she was saying too much that she should—or shouldn't—tell. "We found...someone. He was injured and chased by some bad guys, so we helped him."

"He could be a bandit chased by the guards!" the older brother berated, getting hot in the head.

"No, he wasn't! I know it!" Lymsleia defended.

"How should you know? You couldn't see—" He bit his own tongue. The heat on his head cooled down suddenly, suddenly taking in the words he was harshly saying to his sister and the words that he could have said. "Lym...I..."

The girl's face melted into a calm, matured expression. She leaned back on her wheelchair and smiled. "It's all right, big brother."

"I'm sorry, Lym. I didn't mean..."

"I know, big brother. I understand."

Freyjadour stared at her sister's face. She was so fragile. Her mind has been scarred by a trauma that he could do nothing to erase. He feared that she would become broken beyond repair, with Freyjadour unable to do anything again for her.

"I...was just worried."

Lymsleia smiled wider. "I know, big brother! Don't worry. You don't have to worry about me all the time. I will be strong for you."

His blue eyes snapped. Lymsleia stretched her arms to her brother, inviting a hug. Freyjadour bend over and accepted her arms around his neck. As the siblings embraced, Freyjadour's fake smile faded to a sad, thoughtful facade.

After a quick dinner (with Miakis cooking, no one had much appetite to eat), Freyjadour helped his sister to her bed. He carried her like a bride and gently put her down to her bed.

Freyjadour knelt beside her bed, whispering, "Good night, Lym."

Lymsleia smiled, taking his hand and tightening it like a hug. "Good night, big brother."

"Lym," he said quietly and gently. "What would you like to first see when you open your eyes again?"

"You, big brother," she answered. Her face turned to the ceiling. "And a peaceful world where no one fights for power."

Freyjadour recalled Falena, their motherland, their home, their past. They couldn't be a normal family, and now they have it. This bit of happiness was enough to last forever as long as they're together. It was all he asked.

"It will happen, Lym."

Yet, so many try to ruin this peace—the Godwins, the Jowston, the Anti-Imperial Movement…

It angered him to how far they will kill the innocent to achieve their ambition. Their foolishness, their stupidity—idiocy!

"I will make it happen."

People like them made Lymsleia like this, people like them killed Lady Claudia, people like them separated people.

People like them…

Suddenly, the weight of his heart tripled. His knees weakly fell to the ground and his hands shook uncontrollably. Lymsleia screamed in a forced, tight one. Her hands reached to cover her ears, afraid of the horrible, screeching cry. The sealed window behind the curtains was penetrated by a red, bloody light. It shone like ruby from the skies.

"Bro-brother…!"

Freyjadour gasped between his pants. He stood up and held to Lymsleia's hand. "Stay here, Lym. Miakis!"

Even before he made the call, the door opened and Miakis arrived with a serious face. Her knives were drawn, ready for the worst.

"Miakis, take care of Lym," he told her without waiting for a reply. Lymsleia tried to call him but he was gone.

He took his tri-sectional staff and made a peek through the window in the living room.

"What--!"

He saw the empire's guards and soldiers lying dead on the ground. Their blood were fresh and even glinting because of the light Freyjadour could not detect its source. He could hear voices outside, but he can hear his staff rattling. He didn't look at his shaking hands. He slowly went to the door. He stared at its rectangle shape as he approached.

There were cries, cries suffering in agony. He came closer and in his mind, they were getting louder. Cries from the past…they were cries from the past. Screams that couldn't scream for years. Was this his? He didn't know these screams but he quivered under them. Such sorrow scared him.

It was frightening.

Cries from war.

A pulling feeling made him reach for the door and slam it open. Everything was bathed in red. The darkness did not conceal any dead men because of the red light from the sky. He ran past these dead men under the light, just like how he ran the corridors of Sol Falena. He was deaf to the cries and the clash of swords by those remaining.

He was anxious, anxiously looking for someone.

"Lazlo!" he shouted. He was here, but where?

His feet stopped and his head turned. His braided hair whipped in the air. Then, his blue eyes saw what it dreaded.

He didn't scream. A beast within him suddenly ordered his whole body to attack. His legs sprinted while his hands raised his staff vertically. The man who held the sword swiftly turned a surprised look at the red blur that was once in the air then suddenly gone. Instinctively, the man pulled his sword from the flesh and raised it to defend himself. He had not predicted, but the instinct protected him the mighty swing of a long staff.

The man gritted his teeth, feeling the pressure rising in his arms. They locked weapons. The surprise attack made his lose advantage, but his opponent was smaller than him. He pushed, but he can hear the beast roaring. Fire was burning in his enemy.

"_A member of the anti-imperial movement,"_ he thought. His enemy's clothes said nothing of his allegiance. The man was slowly pushing his enemy. In their locked weapons, he couldn't dodge his enemy's eyes. His black eyes gazed at the pair of blue eyes, eyes like a ferocious, angry river.

"You—"

Freyjadour expertly switched one hand to the other end, splitting the staff into three. The lost of resistance gave a startle to the man. Freyjadour swung his divided weapon like a nunchuk. For the first few blows, the man blocked with hastiness, but the speedy blows tired the arms carrying the heavy sword. Suffering from the blows, the man jumped back, staying far from this beast.

"You're—"

But his throat growled beastly and sprung to dig his fangs on his enemy. "ARGHH!"

The sword aligned to block the next blows, but then it staggered. A strong, beating pulse trembled in his left hand.

"_What the…!"_

His knee weakened. A pain erupted in his left hand. His whole body began to shake. His eyes were shut tight. With force, he peeked to see the boy coming at him to kill him. His eyes were losing focus. He wasn't dying. He couldn't, not at this time when… "Fre…Frey—"

"Georg!"

The man named Georg had fallen into unconsciousness. The newcomer came with a sword ready to intercept. His speed threatened Freyjadour to pull back and defend himself from a powerful blow. Freyjadour had no way to fight back this close while defending himself with the real form of his staff. The new general didn't use this to take him down now though. He had to pull back to secure his ally's safety.

And besides…

"Don't get involved," he said. "I know you're not involved, Freyjadour."

He didn't reply, breathing in and out heavily but quickly.

"Put down your weapon now." It was an order.

Freyjadour didn't. His fingers were wrapped on his weapon, knuckles white already.

"Do it now, or you WILL be involved!"

"NO!" he roared. He wasn't going to listen to this man! No one will order him, not him! "YOU KILLED HIM!" His hands transformed his weapon back to a staff as he lunged.

"_When we come back, Lym, let's smile and…" Freyjadour blushed slightly. He was excited to meet … again. He was happy he was fine, but he wanted to make … happier. "And Lym, do you want to call him…dad?" He hesitated and added hastily, "it's less formal than 'father'! But if you don't feel right…" …_

… _He didn't know how to approach him, because he wasn't the same man who promised to come back. He felt like … hadn't, like his heart was left behind in the war. It was as if his heart died in the war…_

… … _looked at him with unfamiliar eyes. Freyjadour's voice disappeared and his breaths went shorter. He opened his mouth, loosely hanged…_

…"_Welcome back."…_

The general gritted his teeth, having no choice but to defend. Perhaps with one swing, he can finish this boy, but he wouldn't kill an innocent boy, especially one who did not deserve what he had already gotten. Yet his face didn't soften, but a cry surprised him.

"Dad!"

Somehow, both two men stopped. An eleven-year-old boy stood not too far from them. His clothes were tattered and torn and it looked like he is worn out. He held his staff to partly support himself, but stood with dignity in front of the two people he admired.

"Why are you two…"

"Tir, it's not safe here!" General McDohl cried out. "Tir, where's Gremio?"

But he was cut short by footsteps coming behind his son.

"Tir!"

The general put a wary eye at Freyjadour and a quick glance at Georg. But his son! He greatly hoped it was an ally, but a cry of his son's name from an unfamiliar voice assured him that it was no enemy. The general heard a bow pulled back as the stranger walked near his son. He saw the stranger's appearance quickly with the red light from the sky that was slowly merging with the darkness. There was an exchange between the two with a hint of strong recognition. Both sides suddenly pulled their weapons up.

The boy in between became confused and apprehensive. "Wait, Dad! Ted's—"

The bow-wielding stranger quickly noticed a body lying on the ground. The shimmer of two duel blades was unmistakably—

"You…" his voice toned to a whisper, muttering a name that sank into silence, just like how darkness governed the night once more.

The general's quick reflexes blocked a swift arrow. He turned around, heads turning too to the direction where it came from. The general knew he was slowly being cornered. He could hold them off, if not for an unconscious ally and his son in the battlefield.

But he has to withdraw.

The general grabbed his ally's arm and fled. He prayed—oh what a fool, praying amidst the battlefield, but he earnestly prayed, his son would be alive tomorrow.

Voices were approaching from the direction the arrow came from. At the same time, the voices from the imperial army were approaching.

"Quick, get his body! We can't let the imperial scums taking it as their trophy!"

"Withdraw quickly," a woman's voice ordered quietly.

Ted clenched his hands. "Odessa…"

The woman's blue eyes were turned away from the man's corpse as if it didn't exist or it did not matter. She looked at the man with white hair whose grips of his weapon had not lightened. She felt his pain, but her façade was strong. It was just like her.

"Frey."

He was silent.

"This isn't the time to talk, but I'd like you to join our cause."

"Odessa—"

Odessa raised a hand to signal silence from Ted.

"Frey, join us, the Toran Liberation Army."

* * *

She studied the stars in her tower. Even though she was blind, she saw many things. The stars were finally gathering again. They have been confused and dim for a twist of fate. He tried to set them right, with consequences too heavy.

"Time is but an illusion. You may have the power of a god, but you are still human deep inside. It is the humane feelings in mankind that determine their power…but what would it be? For justice, for peace…or for revenge?"

Even she did not know, but she has to trust into the future, for she was simply an observer.


	4. The past to fight for

I do appreciate reviews, especially your reactions and constructive criticisms.

Er, yea.

Also, I said 399 in the previous chapter regarding the year Tir was born…er, it's 439, haha. Originally, before the Suikoden Radio drama, Tir was assumed to be born 439, but that was because we thought he was a 16-years-old! So yea.

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* * *

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**True Runes: Freyjadour of the Rebellion**

**Chapter 4: The past to fight for**

* * *

"Frey, join us."

His chin rose, meeting an almost similar copy of his eyes. This copy was darker and strong, but behind those eyes is something tender and kind. His eyes, however, had lost those. It had been beastly like a wolf and it had been a loyal dog, but his eyes were different now.

"The Toran Liberation Army."

In the pit of darkness he had always sought only the light, he rejoiced on a single ray and was satisfied. But then, he realized…

"No."

He realized that this bit of happiness…

Her eyes broadened, but she wouldn't take just a single word for an answer. She relaxed her face. "Why?"

This bit of happiness wasn't enough.

* * *

**SY 445 – **_**(5 years ago)**_

"This," said Lazlo. "is your new home!"

It wasn't a grand house, nor was there was a grand entrance. Freyjadour's jaw dropped as he innocently dropped at their new home. Lymsleia was less to be pleased by the appearance of the house with her lack of sight. Her face changed with a familiar voice though that called her name.

"Lym!" The voice burst out as soon the door opened. The surprise was more on Lymsleia who couldn't see. Freyjadour recognized the person immediately, but was too happy and shocked to speak.

"Who's that?" asked Lymsleia obliviously, turning her head. She frowned. If her eyes were opened, she would be squinting.

The voice was affronted. "WHAT?" she reacted violently. "I can't believe Lymie forgot my so easily!"

Lymsleia looked equally affronted with the name used on her, but the voice soon registered in her mind before she could retort. She gaped. "Miakis!"

Miakis' smile became warmer. "There we go…Princess."

At the release of the last word, Lymsleia left Freyjadour's side and burst to run to where Miakis was. Freyjadour tried to reach her in the last second she ran, but then just smiled as she watched Lymsleia embrace Miakis. Lymsleia buried her face on Miakis' clothes, possibly crying.

"Hey, don't wipe your runny nose on my new clothes!"

Lymsleia sniffed. "Shut up!"

Freyjadour chuckled. Hearing a loud laughter from behind, he turned and saw Lazlo laughing very genuinely. The contagious laugh made him laugh as well.

Hearing the chorus of laughter, Lymsleia turned her head to them angrily. Her face was red with embarrassment and washed in newly dried tears. "Shut up, you two!"

"Sorry, Lym," said Freyjadour with a smile he couldn't hide.

Miakis beamed at the young boy. "Prince! I mean, Frey, look at you!" Miakis hugged Freyjadour tightly. "You look adorable!" The nineteen-year-old pinched the young boy's cheek tightly. Freyjadour's face suffered from the pain of too much love. "And as girly as ever!"

The comment about his effeminacy made him blush terribly. He could just hide his face behind his palm, but Miakis was still painfully holding onto his cheek.

Fortunately, Lazlo felt the boy's pain. With the man's smile though, it was only sympathetic. "Relax, Miakis. You're going to disfigure his face."

Miakis let go and bent down a bit to get a better look of his face. "Aw, I wouldn't want his cute face to become ugly and old."

Freyjadour stared at Miakis whose still, grinning face made him nervous. "Uh…"

"You're so CUTE!"

Miakis scoped the boy and squeezed him tightly.

"Mi-mi-a-a-kis! Pl-plea-please-sto-stop!" His voice shook as Miakis swayed him like a doll.

"All right, all right!" she giggled, obliging to the request of the boy. "It's too bad you're getting older. When you were just a tiny boy, you'd always run to every woman and hug them." Miakis' face darkened to a smirk. "You little pervert…"

Freyjadour doubted he ever had the intention, or had done the exaggeration at all, but Miakis got the expression she wanted. "Miakis!"

"You even peeped on Lym once!"

Both Freyjadour and Lymsleia's eyes grew. "WHAT?"

"What are you talking about?" demanded Lymsleia. Though blind, Freyjadour could feel her eyes on him. "You!"

Miakis' teasing face burst into a bewildered look. She frowned. "Lym, is that how you call your brother?"

The siblings seemed to be holding the same expressions recently. They were baffled for a moment, but became quiet upon realizing what has been meant. Instantly, it became an awkward moment.

Miakis was quite in the mood now to be a mother and speak up a thing or two. Her hands were on her hips and her face was disappointed and angry. Her lips were about to let go of the words, but Lazlo interrupted her.

"Let's talk later. Gregmister is a big city to explore," he said, smiling at the three faces turned to him.

It was already settled and no one spoke about anything else anymore. Even Miakis realized the bad timing and decided to forget about what had just happened for now. Even so, she did not pretend having a cheerful mood as they strolled.

After a delightful lunch, they stepped out of the restaurant and stopped in the middle of their discussion with the expensive cheese clam appetizers and the beef that worked like magic with spice. The royal entourage of the crowned prince, Barbarossa was exiting the city. Freyjadour loosely dropped his jaw, smiling in awe at the prince who smiled gently and waved at his people.

"Oh, it's that time of the year, right?" Miakis asked Lazlo, who nodded.

"The what?" Lymsleia asked.

"Every year, Prince Barbarossa conduct prayers for good harvest in the Kunan region," answered Freyjadour with a hint of excitement. He remember himself how it was, having met the prince he admired during one of the ceremonies. Freyjadour then noticed. "Lady Claudia will not be coming with him?"

"No," replied Lazlo, who looked in thought as the city gates closed in the distance. "Maybe it's time you get back to the house."

"Where are you going?" asked Freyjadour.

"Just something to check on…"

Lymsleia frowned. "Does this mean Miakis is cooking dinner?"

* * *

Freyjadour often sparred with Miakis, who wielded her usual daggers. Freyjadour was still not on Miakis' level, mainly because his use on his tri-sectioned staff had many flaws. The family heirloom was difficult to use and Freyjadour have to self-study often times, learning from his crash and loses against Miakis. Their spars became less becoming because Lymsleia demanded Miakis' presence. Miakis felt the need to attend to both equally, but Freyjadour soon understood that he should give up time with Miakis so she and Lymsleia can spend more time together.

Freyjadour often studied by reading books. He learned to enjoy them once he's buried in it, though he used to have problems having the initiative to actually read one. Fortunately, he learned how to love reading, mostly about the details of Scarlet Moon Empire. He didn't enjoy much of the classics and novels, even if they detailed an epic war. His imagination was a bit short, so even as a child he found it difficult to feel excited reading such books. He felt it more interesting to read on factual events.

And eventually, when Lazlo found Freyjadour reading more often alone, he felt that he was not doing well as a parent. After all, boys his age should be outside playing or going out in a make-believe adventure. He knew Freyjadour well enough he wasn't much of the type, since even he didn't like make-believe adventures when he was a child.

Lazlo saved at least one day for Freyjadour, and this he completely formulated. Whilst there was something going on in the shadows of the empire, he personally came up to General Teo McDohl in what the general thought to be a serious matter. He could not believe his ears that broke the tense atmosphere in the castle when Lazlo asked about his son, Tir.

"Having a parental problem?" General McDohl asked, humored.

Lazlo smiled. "Perhaps so."

"My son's surrounded by people I trust, so I have nothing to fear. He's always energetic and fiery, so I know he's doing very well. Every night, we join together for dinners and I would hear his story. Even though nights can be tiring, listening to him makes them less weary."

Lazlo figured there weren't a lot of people in the house. He knew more importantly that Freyjadour is constantly concerned for his sister and he was persistent to always becoming better as if he really needed to. He needed to lighten up.

"Frey," Lazlo called.

Freyjadour looked up from the history book he was reading. "Yes?"

The kid was still formal. "Got some time?"

Freyjadour nodded, closing his book.

Lazlo smiled. "I just want to spar with you, if you don't mind."

Freyjadour grinned, nodding feverishly. "Of course not!"

Lazlo was obviously going easy on Freyjadour. He wielded a single sword and deflected every strike Freyjadour made. The strikes of his tri-sectioned staff were still basic and uncreative. Freyjadour was smart enough to notice he was making no actual progress, so he began to eye on Lazlo's openings. In response, Lazlo revealed them secretly, each time hoping Freyjadour to spot it, and each time Freyjadour successfully did, Lazlo's heart fluttered in success. He didn't spoil Freyjadour though. He made sure he would taste nasty counterattacks out in the blue, in which Freyjadour first reacted poorly.

Lazlo started to summarize what Freyjadour needs to improve on in his mind and unconsciously making up plans on how to have Freyjadour learn it on his own. At times before he sleeps, he became distracted and this thought became addicting. Unfortunately, each time he enter the castle, his focus became divided. Although it was sad, he'd have to attend to some other business for the few weeks…

When Lazlo hadn't been coming home again, Freyjadour eagerly set up his own practices. He wasn't used practicing out in the open (at the back of the house, they have a garden), but as it became a normal routine, he felt at ease. Practicing in the air, he used less force and managed his fingering on his weapon. His hands, his wrists, and how his arms were to react on attacks. Occasionally, he would drop his tri-sectional staff. He couldn't twirl them properly yet too.

One time, while at the garden, he saw boys of his age playing roughly with their fists. It crossed to Freyjadour's mind about martial arts and if he could imitate it more. He put into thought how his feet would move and the position of his feet in consecutive attacks and at retreats. Each time he managed to impress himself, he thought of using it against Lazlo and expressed in his mind how Lazlo would react. And then Freyjadour would execute his defense and attack again.

And then in another time, when Lazlo checked on Freyjadour, he came back and saw a small crowd near the back of the house. He grinned at the sight and felt more in ease. When one sees girls starring at one's child and boys red in jealousy, one would know he was doing a very good job.

* * *

**SY 446 **_**– (4 years ago)**_

Freyjadour had one time with Miakis to spar after so many practices. He was anxious yet excited to see his own work pay off. He wants to prove to himself he was making progress. In this, he became aggressive in their spar, so Miakis was forced to raise the level of difficulty. In Freyjadour's delight, he disarmed one of Miakis' daggers and hit her after a twirl. Freyjadour felt very satisfied, but he knew he had many flaws and worried he was not going to prove anything to Lazlo now.

Times suddenly changed when the house was filled with a spine-tingling scream and cry. In horror, he saw Lymsleia crying and writhing in pain in her bed. She held close to her stomach. For a moment, he thought she was stabbed, but there was no blood in her hands. Miakis called in a doctor and treatment Freyjadour didn't learn until later on underwent throughout the night.

The two were extremely anxious as the doctor let them in the room.

"Internal wounds reopened," the doctor told them straight. "It was only for a fraction, but it would naturally still cause serious pain. Fortunately, strong magic was used on the closing of wounds, so my Water Rune was sufficient enough to heal the small reopening…I suggest she rest for a week and avoid unnecessary movement. She'd need a lot of vitamins, too…"

The doctor patted the drops of sweat on his half-bald head. "Be careful now."

Miakis thanked the doctor, nodding. Freyjadour stared at Lymsleia's sleeping face, suddenly filled with dreaded fear.

The following day, Freyjadour realized his mother was dead, his father was dead, and his sister was lying at the edge of the plane. He felt no need to read, no need to practice. He thought of Falena and his status. He thought of his sister and their future. Somehow, this home he lived in for many months became distant and he knew more that he was far away from his real home.

"Is something wrong?" asked Lazlo, putting down his sword.

Early morning, he asked Freyjadour the time to spar. It has been months, and Lazlo felt disappointed Freyjadour wasn't as excited as he was. He's been forced to observe the events lately but his concern has been on Freyjadour still.

Freyjadour gave no instant response, curling his lips.

Lazlo crossed his arms, giving only too silence. It's not like he was pressuring Freyjadour to speak up, but he completely have no idea what could be troubling Freyjadour. He wasn't on the house often, so it was partly his fault, but he was genuinely concerned to know.

"Nothing," answered Freyjadour quietly.

Lazlo tried not to sigh. He has to have a guessing game. "Is there something you want?"

"No…"

"Did you want to do something?"

"No…"

"Is it about Lymsleia?"

Freyjadour's eyebrows furrowed and he dared not to look at Lazlo. Lazlo got the subject now.

"What about her?"

"Nothing…"

Back to square one…

"Did she do something to you? You two got in an argument?"

Freyjadour shook his head. "No; nothing like that…"

Lazlo was a patient man, though he mused of this kind of behavior briefly.

"Are you feeling bad about something?"

Freyjadour was motionless.

"About Lymsleia?"

Again, he didn't move, but Lazlo stared carefully at his eyes and knew he was getting closer.

"It's not as if you did anything to her, right?"

Freyjadour shook his head.

"Then what is it?"

The former prince looked away and Lazlo remained stiff as well.

"Wait here," he told the boy. "I'm going to get us breakfast…"

The two ate quietly, Lazlo expressing warmer affections to Freyjadour, hoping it would help him open up. They sat on the bed of cold grass. It rained last night, but the cool air and wet grass made it feel like they were by the shore of the sea. It was quiet and slightly dark, peaceful and relaxing.

They sipped on warm chocolates. Lazlo liked chocolates, and so did Freyjadour. The two didn't really have a sweet tooth, but they were chocolate fans. They didn't go crazy over sugar-induced chocolates though. They wanted the cocoa-rich ones, not the chemically engineered chocolates…expensive chocolate they were.

"If there's something you want to say," Lazlo began. "I'm willing to hear it."

They continued to eat in silence, Lazlo raising topics almost randomly.

"What time did you sleep last night?"

"Ten o'clock."

"Did you sleep well?"

Freyjadour nodded.

"Have you heard of the Island Nations?"

"I have."

"I was born there."

Freyjadour looked up at Lazlo, curious. "Really?"

Lazlo nodded. "I sailed a lot. I love the seas, traveling, and getting to see many people. There were many fishes and mermaids…"

"Mermaids?"

Lazlo nodded again. "They weren't a common sight though."

"When did you see them?"

"…a long time ago."

Freyjadour was in awe. Mermaids haven't been sighted for a very long time.

"What was your job?"

"I was a knight." Lazlo grinned.

"For how long?" the boy asked excitedly.

"Not too long," he answered.

Freyjadour sipped on his hot chocolate. "Both my fathers came from the Island Nations," he said. "Lym's father said many things about it."

"Like what?"

Freyjadour looked up. "The sea, food, ships…Mother said it was a great place, too."

"I'd take you two there," said Lazlo warmly, putting a hand on Freyjadour's shoulder. "Wherever you want to go. The world is not perfect, but it's beautiful."

The prince's eyes stared in Lazlo's eyes, stunned. He felt Lazlo's grip tighten, as if telling him to squeeze all out his pain. The prince's heart obeyed, slowly warming and expanding from its cold, stoned form. His eyes relaxed, letting go of tears he never realized he had so much of. Lazlo really have no idea if this was actually related to his problem, but it was a start.

Freyjadour didn't know how to clean his tears. He balled his hands into fists, still trying not to cry, but he was too emotional to have the real will. For long minutes, he cried as the sun began to appear. The new light made him realize he has cried for too long. He finally wiped some of his tears with the back of his hand and hiccupped.

"Lazlo…" he tried to say with his hoarse voice. He found himself more prone to tears. "This bit of happiness…" He quivered, hiccupping and finding his vision blurred in the light reflected by his watery eyes. "This bit of happiness isn't enough."

Even as they talk of going and traveling of a bright future in each new day, he fretted that the small light that barely casts a shadow is followed endlessly by the darkness that will return to blind Freyjadour, filled with the feeling of being powerless. His inability to protect anyone or anything, that even though he impressed himself with his skills and progress, he was nothing against the large shadow that followed him and the dim room that waited at the end of the tunnel.

They were now both covered in light and Lazlo was struck by the sadness in the young man's face, completely weakened and blank at the thought of how to give Freyjadour the happiness he deserved.

Freyjadour spent more times with Lazlo, who became more available each day. Lazlo even spent time with Lymsleia for a change, since he could rarely attend to her. Lymsleia treated Lazlo with respect, oddly enough, and Freyjadour could see from the looks in their faces during their conversation that they talked about serious topics, unlike the usual Lymsleia and Miakis chatters that included many poking and teasing.

After another spar with Miakis, Freyjadour engaged in a discussion, directly asking her: "Miakis, before you came to us…how was Falena?

Miakis made a double-take on Freyjadour's face, a bit surprised by the sudden question. She was a bit hesitant to answer.

"The truth, Miakis."

"Well, Lady Sialeeds is now Her Majesty and Gizel is the Commander of the Queen's Knights, but Marscal is like…" Miakis made a horn out of her fingers, mocking the man's face. Freyjadour smiled slightly, but Miakis became a bit more serious. "It isn't the same Falena, Prince."

"…"

"Just…forget about Falena, Prince."

Freyjadour changed the topic. "Why are you calling me 'prince'?"

Miakis poked her tongue out. "We were talking about Falena, so…oh, forget it. Sorry, Frey!"

Still, he was bothered. Forget Falena?

He thought of the injustice and what was rightfully theirs. He thought of what was right and what should be, yet…

He knew it would all come back. It would be a large shadow, a shadow that has been tailing him.

Freyjadour slept with ill thoughts, and so he dreamt of hazy characters and forces that disturbed him. Shadows blurred in his dream, images barely can be made out, yet he felt like he was being swallowed and destroyed. In an instant, in the few seconds on dream, he woke up with a shout. His hands scrambled for the blankets, having felt that he has left the bed and he was elsewhere in a place he didn't know.

"Frey?" Lazlo came. He was still in his casual clothes. It was obvious the man hadn't slept yet and was bothered by the scream.

"A nightmare," he said hesitantly.

Lazlo shut the door quietly, coming in the room. "What was it about?"

Even if Freyjadour would share, he couldn't. "I forgot."

Lazlo peered at the clock and saw that it was past eleven. He knew better than to persist. "You should get back to sleep. Do you want anything?"

Freyjadour shook his head.

"All right," conceded Lazlo. "Good night."

"Good night."

But after that, he could no longer sleep. It was already one in the morning. He stood up from his bed and quietly stalked in the hallway. He realized he was going to pass by Lymsleia's room, so he entered to check on his sister. As he slowly opened the door, a voice snapped at him.

"Sneaking in a girl's room, how rude!"

Even so, Freyjadour opened the door widely and saw Lymsleia sat up in her bed, wide awake. Her arms were crossed, completely disapproving.

"Erm, sorry," he said. "Can I come in?"

Lymsleia's frown disappeared and she nodded. Freyjadour slowly closed the door and stood by the far end of Lymsleia's room.

"Why are you just standing there? You can sit on my bed, you know."

"Well." Freyjadour obeyed and sat by the foot of her bed. "Why are you awake, Lym?"

"I'm not very tired," she answered. "And you?"

Freyjadour smiled weakly. "Nothing…"

Lymsleia's face stared at her blanket. "You've been thinking of Falena, haven't you, brother?"

Freyjadour was less shocked or surprised, but curious where Lymsleia was going as she seemed to be not yet done.

"I've already thought of Falena, but with how I am, there's nothing I can do about it. I want to move on and live happily. I can do that, right, brother?"

"Of course you can."

"But then, I thought." Her voice threatened to break. "I thought that I would have to face Falena again someday." Her hand dabbed her eyes. "I don't want to…but I know I have to."

"Lym, you're no longer the princess of Falena," said the prince, emphasizing it as he felt her tears were as the princess of Falena.

"But what of Mother? Father? They died for Falena—"

"They…" Freyjadour's eyes narrowed. "They'd understand, but please, Lym, don't think of…don't think of leaving me, please. I also feel that I would have to face Falena again, but if I do, then I don't want to be alone. But never leave me, Lym, please."

Lymsleia raised her head and felt her brother's warm gaze on her.

"Then promise me something," whispered Lymsleia firmly. "Never leave me behind."

"I won't!" answered Freyjadour.

"Even if I am blind and injured," she continued with the same firmness. "Never, ever, leave me behind. Always take me with you, brother."

"I will."

"Because if you leave me, then I will also leave."

* * *

It was the time of the year when Prince Barbarossa would lead once again the annual prayers for good harvest. Unlike last year, Lady Claudia will accompany the beloved prince this year.

"Frey, want to come along?" asked Lazlo while equipping his rare dual swords on his belt.

The boy wondered. "To where?"

Lazlo turned. He was about to leave, but had offered Freyjadour something he wouldn't be able to resist. "I will see His Majesty and his wife before they depart."

"Prince Barbarossa and Lady Claudia?" he asked eagerly.

"Who else?"

The two went to the empire's castle, located a distance from Gregminster. They were to depart directly from the castle unlike before where they would come to Gregminster.

Lazlo was a common and respected visitor in the castle. As they past guards, they greeted him warmly. The sight of Lazlo also allowed them to put even a smile on the man. Freyjadour's head stared at the soldiers even as they left.

"Do you go here often?" he asked.

Lazlo was aware the awe in Freyjadour's face, but he pretended to be oblivious about it. "Very often."

Freyjadour never really knew what Lazlo does for work, but he never thought it was related in anyway to the empire.

"Are you a soldier, just how you fought as a knight?"

Lazlo chuckled. "No, not at all. You mean, you have no idea?"

Freyjadour pondered deeply. "I remembered Lady Windy mentioning your apprenticeship with…"

"Lady Leknaat," he finished for him.

"Who is she?"

They entered past the doors of the castle and were directed to the waiting room (as usual). The servant already knew who they were here for.

"Lady Leknaat is the Seer of the empire from the Magician's Island. The island's very far away protected by magical barriers. Every year she sends her observations of the stars to the empire. Since she's not capable of doing many things at a time, I have to help her out, in and out of the island."

"Observations of the stars?"

"We call them Astral Conclusions," explained Lazlo.

"I read something about this…like reading the future?"

Lazlo nodded. "Something like that. Of course, it's not that…true. Lady Leknaat gives vague information of the 'flow' of events to happen. It can be misinterpreted or mistaken."

Soon, the two majestic figures appeared before them and Prince Barbarossa greeted both warmly.

"Why, if it isn't Freyjadour."

Freyjadour blushed slightly over his wide smile. "Your Majesty!" He responded with a bow quickly.

"Formal as ever," commented Lady Claudia. She put her hand gently on his head with compassion. "You've grown! How is your sister?"

Freyjadour tried not to remember and mention in guilt of the reopening of Lymsleia's wounds. "Very well."

"Is there something you need?" asked Prince Barbarossa towards Lazlo.

Lazlo raised his hands in defense. "No, just saying goodbye and a blessed journey."

Prince Barbarossa eyed at Lazlo carefully and laughed. "I thought of seeing the other regions after the ceremony, but must I return early?"

"No, I think it's a good idea for the prince to see his people as well."

He nodded. "I'm glad you approve of it."

"Keep your heads up, your Majesty."

Because the tide of fate is now about to change.

Prince Barbarossa looked at Freyjadour. "Freyjadour, have you thought of your future?"

Freyjadour was silenced, his eyes wide and blinking. He thought ill of his future that he imagined to be filled with shadows, but he said nothing of this.

"Not a lot." He then hesitantly added, "What have you thought about yours, Your Majesty?"

The prince raised his head and his distant eyes softened. "I had and it would be the same, and it's an empire of peace." His eyes steadily looked at Lazlo. "Unless fate has a different idea."

Lazlo only closed his eyes and made no reply.

Freyjadour didn't know this would be the last time he would see Prince Barbarossa and Lady Claudia…the last time the same person the prince would be.

Two days after the departure, Geil Rugner, Prince Barbarossa's uncle, had removed the prince as the heir through a trial that obviously favored Geil Rugner due to the political favor he gathered, making sure that the prince would lose in a trial he is miles away from. Lazlo was long prepared for this, but as he said goodbye to Miakis, Lymsleia, and Freyjadour, he may be wrong.

Lazlo would look at Freyjadour. The boy was only silent and he wondered, was he filled with thoughts? He couldn't read his face and it made it more difficult to say goodbye.

He was not experienced in saying goodbyes. Often he left, but he never had to consider that someone would be sad.

"Frey," he told him. "I will come back."

And he believed him.

Freyjadour had read many history books, books of the creation of war and states. It was ironic in many ways that he remained clueless of the escalating war.

There was a girl a few years older than him. He never heard of her and Lazlo never mentioned her name even once. One day, as Lazlo was about to leave, she came barging in the house, looking upset and appeared to be ready to attack. Freyjadour was just as ready to defend because he really thought some mad woman entered the house.

The said mad woman was Odessa Silverberg who was Lazlo's pupil and even as she came angry and upset, she burst into tears, tears that Freyjadour thought he should be having as well as Lazlo left. Yet, for some reasons, he couldn't.

They lived in peace under the Silverberg, far from the succession war in the Scarlet Moon Empire. After the war, Lady Claudia was gone, and Freyjadour felt deep inside that the man too had died.

"Why?" Odessa asked quietly. They remained deaf to the cries of the imperial guards approaching.

"I have no plans on bringing ruins to peace," he answered quietly, silently shaking at the selfish idea of this woman.

"Don't you see what's happening, Frey?" she demanded. "The government is corrupted! It will bring itself to ruins!"

_"In the land's state, we will fall behind powerful nations and a slave to their ideals! The Queendom is too timid!"_

"I believe in the emperor!" His voice shook yet firmness. "And as your friend, Odessa, I suggest you stop this, before mercy can no longer be given!"

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Frey. I have seen the corruption ever since Barbarossa took the throne. If this goes on, then the empire will surely fall."

_"We have to learn from the mistakes of the past! Falena must prosper through aggressive means to strengthen our power!"_

"Then are you saying you deserve to lead the empire?" he hissed quietly.

"Not at all, but I fight for reforms," answered Odessa. "There is no right in the empire anymore."

_"I believe that I am putting Falena in the right path to avoid the destruction that threatened within us."_

Freyjadour's blood boiled. "Who are you to speak such an ignorant thought?"

"Ignorant?" repeated Odessa, her glares showing. "You're the one who's been ignorant! You who Master sheltered from the corruption for so long! But Lazlo is DEAD! Open your eyes, Freyjadour! The empire we both once knew is long gone!"

_"We are to enter in a new era of peace...and POWER!"_

"I will fight for that empire no matter what!" His hand dramatically swiped the air. "For that empire I will not abandon it in times of danger…" Freyjadour took up his weapon.

"Odessa, if you dare to cross with the empire again, then I will fight you."

"Then do know," she said heatedly. "That I have already decided to destroy the empire along with its corruption, and I am not going to hesitate to bring you along, you who have become a DOG OF THE EMPEROR!"

_"For this, I have brought destruction even to the royalty to bring the phoenix back from the ashes!"_

"Then you must be the wolf who turned snarling at its master."

Odessa gritted her teeth. "In a land that is truly free, there are no masters."

Freyjadour's eyes sparked as he smirked. He would no longer let the Godwins have their way and become a shadow to further rob what was his.

"Your definition of freedom, Odessa, is _childish_."


End file.
